The mansion was quiet the following morning — not the silence of peace, but the silence that came after the murder. The kind of silence that creeps over a home like a heavy fog, curling into creases, tainting the walls.
She stood by the window, a robe on that wasn't hers. The smell of Viktor lingered, clung to the fabric — smoke, leather, a hint of something sinister. The marble underfoot was too clean, stripped of every last speck of blood. If she didn't have it still stuck under her fingernails, she could've believed it was a dream.
But it wasn't.
They were gone, Tatiana and Sofia. Their rooms are empty, their scent dissipating from the air. Viktor had not mentioned them since last night, and Lila had not inquired or asked. This was what it took to survive here. You didn't grieve the bodies you walked over.
But her hands continued to shake.
Viktor was already awake, on the balcony, holding his phone to his ear. His stance was tense - shoulders braced, jaw clenched - the unmistakable signs of a man at war. Lila could only catch bits of his phone call, words wafting in through the open door like smoke:
"Don't mind who has seen her. Clean it up. She's under my protection now."
She understood it was about her. About them. Not merely his mistresses or lovers − his wives were politics, connections to influential men who wouldn't want to be informed their daughters were dead.
She was not from a powerful family. No significant last name. No money. No title. Only a face worth looking at, and a coat of red on her hands.
She emerged outside, bracing herself from the cold of the morning. Viktor disconnected the phone as soon as he saw her, his dark eyes softer than they ought to be.
"Come here," he instructed.
She did, moving into his space, allowing his arms to wrap tightly around her torso. It was odd, the sense of safety of a man who could kill with his own bare hands.
"Are you all right?" he inquired, his voice low. Almost gentle.
She considered lying, but what was the use? "No."
He did not provide comfort -- not the kind a normal man would. Viktor's comfort was in domination, in the angle at which he raised her chin, in the promise in his eyes that no one was ever going to touch her again if they wanted to die screaming.
"They're going to be discussing you," he stated, his tone dropping even further. "They already are."
Who?
"Everyone." He brushed a lock of hair out of her face. The families of the wives. My foes. Men who've sought for years to destroy me, but were never able."
Lila swallowed. "Why? Why does any of this matter to them?"
"Because you're mine," he stated as if it were a given. "And if they can't get to me, they'll get to you."
The truth hit her like a splash of icy water. "Me, a target?"
Viktor smiled. "But you're not defenseless." His fingers ran along her arm, stopping at her wrist, where his fingers could feel the rapid beat beneath. "You made them see that last night."
Lila was unsure if she should be proud or appalled. Possibly both.
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They ate breakfast together — or attempted to. Lila could not eat much, her stomach all knotted up. Viktor observed her poking at the food on her plate, his forehead creased.
"Don't starve yourself," he instructed. "Weakness kills you."
Lila placed down her fork. "I'm not weak."
"No," he confirmed. But you don't understand what it's like to be feared yet. You killed Tatiana because you needed to. That's survival. But if you want to live here, really live, you must become something different."
What?
His smile was slow, however, sinister. "A queen."
Lila nearly laughed. "I'm not a queen." I was just an ordinary girl.
"You will be." He reclined and leaned back on his heels, his eyes on her. Word's already spreading. One of my men heard a discussion this morning at the docks. Someone is inquiring about you."
Lila's breath halted. "Who?
Viktor's expression darkened. "A man named Sergei Morozov."
The name meant nothing to her, yet Viktor's tone conveyed to her everything that she ought to know. "Who is he?"
"An old rival." Viktor's tone was all ice. "He's been waiting for me to slip. Murdering Tatiana and Sofia -- it was necessary, yes, but it was sloppy. It gave him a door."
"What does he want?"
Viktor rose, striding to the window. "He seeks leverage."
Lila's stomach turned. "Me
Viktor gave a nod. "He believes you're my weakness." His eyes returned to hers, their edges cutting. "But what Sergei fails to recognize is that you're not a weakness."
Lila's heart was racing as Viktor walked across the room, bridging the space that separated them. "You're a weapon."
His fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, not cruel, not gentle — possessive.
"And if someone tries to steal you from me, I will incinerate this entire city."
Lila's heartbeat quickened, her body reacting to the warmth in his eyes even as a shiver curled in her stomach. She was suspended between worlds herself — the same broken girl from the brothel, yet something else as well.
Now, something darker.
A queen in training.
A weapon is being forged.
A target painted in red.
A weapon under creation.
A target painted in red.
And somewhere, in the streets, Sergei Morozov was already thinking about claiming her for his own.